


Safe and Sound

by orphan_account



Category: Glee
Genre: Blood/Some level of violence, Character Death, M/M, deserted island!fic, future!fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-26
Updated: 2012-07-26
Packaged: 2017-11-10 19:20:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/469772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian and Kurt are just trying to survive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe and Sound

**Author's Note:**

> Wonderful thanks to my beta, amazonkitten~
> 
> Also, I'm not much into the Glee fandom, anymore, so this may or may not be continued? I have one other chapter finished, and the whole story plotted out, but it's been a while since I've written for these characters, so it may be a while before chapter three is out.
> 
> All the same, enjoy!

The sun beat down on their backs; ferns scratched at their ankles; flies raced circles around their head; stench waged war on their noses, and guilt weighed down their footsteps. Their legs shook with the strain of walking, and climbing, and kneeling and sitting in uncomfortable positions. Their arms were limp from carrying as many supplies as possible, from hoisting and helping each other to scale large rocks. Their faces were sun burnt and drawn into unhappy expressions. Their hair was matted to their heads with sweat and grime, and their nail beds were grimy and black with dirt; everything about them was hurting, dirty, exhausted.

“We’ve been walking for hours.”

“We always walk for hours.”

“We need to take a break. I think I’m about to barf.”

Sebastian scoffed. “You always think you’re about to go, and then you _don’t_ but you bitch and moan until we end up setting up camp. If you want to stop, _fine_ , but I’m going to map this island if it kills me.” He stopped and faced Kurt. “I know it hurts,” he said, oddly tender for the briefest of moments, “but,” the sharpness returned quickly, “we need to know all we can about this island. We need to know if there’s other people here, or creatures—animals that could hurt us, or be used as food. We need to know _everything_ , Kurt. I’m not stopping for something I know is a _ploy_.”

Kurt scowled and didn’t reply; he didn’t stop walking, either. They carried on under the barrage of nature.

“Sebastian..” Kurt didn't bother waiting for his companion to halt, instead he dropped the bags he carried, and knelt slowly to the ground. His legs ached, and his back was stiff and sore. He could feel the burn in his cheeks and shoulders and hands. Out of the corner of his eye, Kurt saw Sebastian set down his bags as well. “We should set up camp.”

It was still hot out—desperately hot, tainting every mouthful of air with a scorching sizzle that stayed in their parched throats for hours. Their sweat dried up quickly, and did nothing to cool them down. Kurt lowered his head, relishing the shade his body cast, so that he could rest his eyes for just a minute.

“Yeah, I'll get the sleeping bags.” They weren't really sleeping bags. They were the blankets they had packed, as well as the emergency blankets from the plane. Seldom were they used as blankets, even: most nights thus far, they've simply been used as an alternative to sleeping on rocks baking in the sun, or in bug-infested grass.

Trees were sparse on the island, yet there wasn't a shortage of bits of wood. Small pieces littered the island, and while it was useful it was equally so a pain in the ass; Kurt had sustained far too many splinters, and Sebastian was sick of his bitching about them.

“I'll get the blankets, you make the fire.” Kurt interrupted, grabbing the bag beside him. Sebastian didn't argue, instead setting to work on grabbing a few choice bits of wood from the designated bag. Kurt looked around, noting that they were on the only flat rock for twenty, maybe thirty feet surrounding them. He sighed, and coughed for Sebastian's attention. “Can you move the bags so I can lay out the blankets?”

Sebastian's mouth drew into an irritated line, but again he didn't object. He nudged the ones closest out of the way, before gathering the ones Kurt had been carrying, and moved them to another, smaller rock. He motioned for Kurt to go ahead, and resumed digging out the wood.

“So, what'll it be tonight,” Sebastian began in an out of place, lighthearted drawl, “Beans, beans, toothpaste, or moldy lobster?”

Kurt's stomach growled. “I'm half tempted to say lobster, but I'll take beans.”

Sebastian nodded, taking out a can and placing the rest of the food in the bag. Kurt reached over and stopped him, though, taking the lobster from him and frowning at it.

“I know we already reek, but smelling like dead crustacean isn't exactly on my to-do list.”

Sebastian shrugged. “We could try cooking it?” He gnawed on his lip for a moment. “Splurge a bit tonight? Beans and lobster?” He smiled lightly, and Kurt, however briefly, returned it.

They sat beside each other, the to-be lit fire in front of them, and set to work in starting their dinner for the god knows what night since they crashed.

“Kurt.”

He rolled over, tucking his face into the scratches and burns of his arms.

“Kurt, come on. We're wasting daylight.”

“Mmmm'on't wanna.”

Sebastian scowled. “I don't care if you don't want to. Get up, now.”

Kurt did, but he didn't stand. “Fuck you Sebastian! You're not the more mature one here! You aren't 'in charge' or in control! Don't you fucking _get it_!? We're _helpless_! There is no one coming to look for two gay guys that took a _private jet_ to go boozing in the Caribbeans! We're doomed. We're going to fucking _die_ here.”

Sebastian was prepared to scream right back at Kurt, until he saw the tears. Tears, pooling in the lids of Kurt's eyes, streaming down his face and catching the very sunlight they were wasting. Kurt shook and shivered, hiccuped and sobbed. He crossed his arms and looked away.

“If I leave you here, you'll be alright?” Sebastian asked softly.

Kurt nodded slowly, unsure.

“I'm going to see if I can find another spot, any place better. I'll be back. Soon. Or something.” Sebastian stood from his crouch and moved to the bags. “I'll take a granola bar, and a bottle of water.”

“Okay..” Kurt's voice was soft, distant. Sebastian nodded, neck stiff and expression unreadable. “Be safe,” Kurt called out after him.

Sebastian simply nodded, raising his hand in a backwards wave, and carried on across the rocks and further along the island.

After Sebastian was gone, Kurt relaxed just a bit. The sun was too hot, and the blankets were uncomfortable; he was hungry and thirsty, and the tears drew attention to how much grime was caked into his face. Unable to soothe his sore back, Kurt sat up and pulled his knees to his chest, tucking his chin atop them.

He wasn't sure how long they'd been stranded; it couldn't have been more than a month, but definitely not less than a week. The days were too long, too hot. And the nights, when everything was finally calm and cool enough to relax, were too short. Sebastian's evident split between indifference and over-protectiveness drove Kurt crazy, yet he'd grown almost accustomed to the constant headache he'd had since they crashed.

Silence falls over their pitiful little campsite, and Kurt allows himself to cry a little more—over what he's lost, over what Sebastian has undoubtedly lost, and over what.. _who_ they both lost.

Kurt reclined, letting his legs stretch out in front of him, and pressed the palms of his dry hands into his wet eyes, trying to stem the tears, the emotion. He was in the middle of a much larger crisis than what they no longer had; this was the time to focus on surviving, getting rescued, nothing else.

Sebastian wiped sweat from his forehead, only momentarily mourning the loss of a piece of his shorts; though by now, they were more of a scrap than 'shorts.' He had used so much of the already distraught fabric to mark his way along, that now they were a sorry excuse for clothes. But it was worth it, Sebastian reminded himself. He had found shelter, in a small patch of trees, just inside what finally seemed to be a forest. It was a clearing of grass, surrounded by trees and if Sebastian strained his ears he was sure he could hear running water. No matter what else, he had found something better than rocks and sand.

He plastered on a grin, and marched back to camp, ignoring the rigidity in his bones and the dry tightness of his overly sunkissed skin. He was going to bring Kurt here, and maybe, just maybe, he'd get a smile out of Kurt.

Kurt tossed and turn on the blankets; they were cool enough, but he wasn't tired. He was, on some level, slightly relaxed. However, on a much more prominent level he was anxious and terrified, simultaneously on edge and the verge of tears. Sebastian wasn't back—he'd said soon. Or something. What exactly could 'or something' mean? Did it mean he was going to trek across the island and never come back? Or had he fallen, sprained something.. what if he was dying? Hurt and bleeding and Kurt couldn't hear him or help him?

It was with that thought in mind that Kurt hurried to stand, disregarding his crackling bones and exhaustion. He looked around, half debating if he should take supplies with him—all or only some, or none at all, and what would be most important should he take any—night had fallen and was cooling fast; in the distance Kurt could hear birds flying, crying out, and far too close he could hear the sound of rustling bushes.

Reaching for the closest weapon on hand, meaning a charred piece of wood, Kurt faced the rustling.

“S-Sebastian?”

“Kurt, Kurt close your eyes.”

“What!?”

“Just do it!”

“Oh god, you aren't bleeding are you? Did you fall? Are you okay?”

Sebastian laughed, setting Kurt off more, “No, no, I'm fine. I promise, I'm fine.”

“Then why do I have to close my eyes?”

“I uh.. I kind of..” It wasn't as if Sebastian was _trying_ to turn this horrific event into a buddy-buddy sitcom. That sort of shit just always seemed to happen to him. “I kind of lost my pants.”

“ _Kind of_?”

“I was trying to mark my path along the way and I thought you'd find me pissing on my territory _distasteful_.” Sebastian snapped back.

“Fine! Whatever!” Kurt turned around, dropping the piece of bark, and covered his eyes for good measure. He heard more rustling, then a soft gust of air as Sebastian walked by him, to the bags with extra clothes. “So, you were marking your path?”

Sebastian hummed in the affirmative. “I found a forest. There's a small clearing just inside the edge of the trees.”

Kurt couldn't help the relieved grin that broke out across his face. “Are we going there tonight?” he asked, almost giddy, practically bouncing.

Sebastian sighed, and Kurt heard the distinct sound of a zipper being pulled. “Kurt, I'm exhausted. It's a tough hike, lots of ferns and shit. Just.. can we sleep tonight?”

Kurt pouted, but as he got a closer look at Sebastian he could see the cuts on his arms and new ones on his chest; there was a small, barely there scratch above his eyebrow, and his ankles.. they were the worst. Kurt swallowed heavily, and nodded. “We'll stay here one more night.” He agreed, nodding to the bag with Neosporin. “Let's put some on those.”

Sebastian brushed him off. “They're fine.”

Kurt pursed his lips. “Sebastian.”

“Kurt, I'm fine. I just want to stop standing, stop talking, and _sleep_.” Sebastian sank to the blankets and rolled onto his side, away from Kurt. Silence fell until—

“Fine, but when we make the new camp tomorrow I'm at least forcing some onto you.”

“Kinky.”

The small chunk of wood to the head was worth it, for some semblance of normalcy.


End file.
